His lips were cracked and dry, his face had bruises covering it, and he was bleeding — everywhere.
"Call ahead." Nixon tossed the phone at Mil. "Make sure Stephen's working the shift today. If not, get him in the hospital now!"
"Stephen?" I repeated.
"Surgeon. Doctor. De Lange." That was the only explanation Chase gave as we drove the rest of the way to the hospital.
A man was waiting outside with a gurney and a team.
When the door opened, he cursed then started firing off orders to everyone around him.
Sergio was basically tossed onto the gurney. With a moan, he fluttered open his eyes. "I'm a matsh!" he slurred. "Tell Andi. Tell her if I'm a matsh, they have to do the surgery before I die."
I froze. "Is he delirious?"
They were still strapping him in when Tex came to my side. "He had us tested. All of us, the entire family. Would have tested dogs and goldfish if that's what it took."
"What?" I gripped Sergio's bloody hand. "What do you mean?"
Tex turned his blue eyes on me. "To see if you were a match. He wanted to donate his bone marrow, but to do that type of surgery now, or hell, even a week from now?"
I nodded in understanding.
Sergio was willing to give his life for mine.
But it wasn't his call to make, not when my time was so short, not when I knew he had so much more to give.
"No." I gripped his hand tighter as Nixon and Phoenix stood over the gurney telling Stephen what happened.
"Drive-by shooting." Nixon ran his hands through his hair. "He was hit in the shoulder a few days ago at the shooting range then was out going for a walk to clear his head and was shot twice."
Stephen nodded, while the rest of the nurses didn't blink an eye.
Gunshot wounds were always investigated in hospitals. I'd always been the type of person that frowned at law enforcement or government officials being in the pocket of organized crime.
But now? With Sergio's life at stake?
I prayed to God that Nixon had sent the police chief a Christmas goose.
"Hold him!" Stephen pushed Sergio down on the gurney as Sergio's body started convulsing; blood soaked the inside of his leg. "Damn it!"
The doctor didn't need to tell me what I was seeing. An artery had been hit, and the seizure was making it worse. I closed my eyes. I couldn't watch, didn't trust myself not to fall to my knees and cry.
"It was supposed to be me," I whispered. "Not him."
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Sergio
THE FLUORESCENT LIGHTS BURNED MY EYES. I blinked them rapidly — thinking it would make the stinging go away, but it only made everything worse. The pain was indescribable, like someone had broken my body in half, repaired it, then repeated the process.
"He's not going to make it."
I recognized the voice. It was Nixon's. Why the hell was Nixon there? Wasn't he dead? No wait. That was me. I'd taken that bullet.
Memories of the past few days flashed across my line of vision, causing a searing headache to build at my temples.
The fight.
The gunshots.
The agreement.
My wife.
Tears burned the back of my eyes.
Wife…
"I'll do it. I'm a match." I gripped her hand firmly in mine.
"You'll die," Tex whispered. "Your body… it's too weak from everything else."
"We're running out of time!" I screamed, my voice hoarse, eyes wide frantic. "Do it now!"
"No." She wrapped her frail arms around my neck. "No."
"Yes." I pushed her away. "If I don't — you could die. The doctor says it needs to be now, so operate."
Her eyes were sad.
Both Tex and Phoenix looked down at the blue and white tile floor, faces pale. I knew what they were thinking. I'd already lost too much blood, my kidneys were barely working, and I wanted to give her part of my life.
I knew going in I would most likely die.
But I'd do everything within my power to save her.
It's odd, when you face death every day, when you elude it, when you finally come to terms with the fact that you won't be on earth forever — that's when you think you're at peace.
I'd thought I was okay with dying.
Until I met her.
And then I was faced with someone else's death every damn day. It's harder. People don't tell you that. It's one thing to come to terms with your own mortality; it's quite another to stare down death of the one you love, knowing there is nothing in this world that will stop it.
My vision blurred again.
"He's flat lining," a voice said in the distance.
I tried to keep my eyes open. I saw white blond hair, big brown eyes, and that tender smile. I reached for it and held onto it, held onto the memory of her. The girl who'd changed my world from darkness to light.
The girl I never wanted.
But desperately needed.
"Tell her I'll love her…" I didn't recognize my own gravelly voice. "…forever."
With a gasp, I felt my heart stutter to a stop.
Blackness overtook me just as a searing pain hit me square in the chest.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Andi